A Mechanic's Worst Nightmare
by seahorse7
Summary: AU Bayverse: Cooter Davenport had always wondered how the General Lee stayed in one piece after all the abuse the Duke boys put it through. Now he wishes he had never found out. Dukes of Hazzard x-over.


_Disclaimer-I own nothing; everything belongs to whoever owns it (Hasbro, etc). I have no excuse for this except a demon plot bunny that bit me and spawned some more related plot bunnies. See author's notes at bottom. Rated T for some swearing._

_1976_

Cooter Davenport could only stand and stare at the absolute piece of crap that the Duke boys had drug into his garage. Bo had called him over the phone, excited over their new acquisition, and had asked if they could bring it over to the shop to start work on it right away. With Bo a recent high school grad, and Luke fresh out of the Marine Corps, they were itching for something to do with their newfound time. The answer was found in a road race put on by the disreputable "Boss Hogg." Bo and Luke were confident that this year would be the year that they would "break the streak" and win the race.

The boys had managed to put together an engine, and all they needed was the car to drop it in. Turns out they had gone off to some junkyard outside of Capitol City, and had brought back the black clunker that was now sitting in Cooter's garage. It was what remained of a '69 Dodge Charger. As Cooter listened to them debating over the best way to remove the old engine block and drop the new one in, he wondered how the two had managed to break their probation and leave the county without Roscoe catching them and hauling them into the local jail, considering how often he had done it before. Then again, the "probation" was notoriously flexible, with Roscoe and Boss Hogg sometimes extending it to just the edge of town all the way to the county line. Such was the "law" in Hazzard County.

Over the next week, he and the Duke boys worked tirelessly to restore the old junkheap into something that wouldn't fly apart the minute it went over forty-five on the notoriously rough roads that snaked through Hazzard. As the work progressed, Cooter noticed that the car was in better shape that he had thought. There was virtually no rust on the vehicle, and the frame and body were as straight as an arrow and blemish free. There was also that God awful little symbol in the grille that resembled some sort of bird of prey that wouldn't come off, no matter what they tried.

The day before the race, the car was finished except for the paint job. "All right, what color are we gonna slap on this thing?" Luke asked.

"I was thinking something eye-catching, like red. You know, get the girls," Bo replied with a wink.

"I think blue would look better, maybe with some yellow striping thrown in..." Luke argued.

Cooter stopped the argument before it even began. "Look, the only paint color I have enough of to cover the entire car is this orange. I have some red, white, blue and black, but not nearly enough to do the entire car."

The boys weren't happy about it at first, but the car ended up orange. Cooter had to laugh when he came back from running an errand, and found the car's paint job finished. The boys had taken the leftover paint colors that he had had and painted the Confederate Battle Flag on the roof as well as a large number one on the sides. Proud letters proclaimed the name "The General Lee" over the doors.

Come race day, the car wasn't in Hazzard Garage. There wasn't a sign of it anywhere. After a desperate search and chase, they found out why the car was in the junkyard in the first place. Turns out some jewel thieves had wrecked it earlier trying to elude the police, and their loot was still hidden in the car. They had stolen the car back trying to get the ill-gotten jewels.

The Duke boys later drove the car to victory in Boss Hogg's race, just as they had planned. As they careened victoriously over the finish line, the horn blared out the first twelve notes of the song "Dixie."

As they drove past, Luke called out, "Thanks for all your help Cooter!"

Cooter called back, "I picked up some paint while I was out earlier today. If you boys want to swing by the garage later, I'd be happy to let you repaint the car!"

"Nah, I think orange suits the General. By the way, nice touch on the horn Cooter! It's great!" Bo called as the boys headed to the Boar's Nest to celebrate.

"But I didn't put that horn in..." Cooter muttered as the car drove by, leaving him slightly mystified. Shaking his shaggy head, Cooter hopped in his truck, and decided to head where everyone else was going-the Boar's Nest. Who cared about some car horn when everyone was celebrating, and over drinks at that?

* * *

_1981_

Cooter was the first to admit to himself that he didn't always make the smartest decisions. Agreeing to deliver that moonshine for Boss Hogg definitely ranked up there. It didn't help that Bo and Luke ended up borrowing the car the 'shine was in while on the run from Enos, and then of course Mary Kaye had to go into labor while they were on the run not only from Enos but that gangster and his thugs as well... And carjacking the President of the United States' limo probably hadn't been the greatest idea ever...

But he was trying to do better. And with all of the business the Dukes were bringing into his garage, he was making decent money. He couldn't even begin to count the number of times he'd had to go out and rescue a fuming Sheriff Roscoe and his beagle Flash. Roscoe always managed to wreck his patrol car while chasing the Duke boys down for "speeding" in his dubious and highly illegal speed traps. About the only good thing about the rigged speed traps was that they got plenty of good entertainment at the Boar's Nest when passing celebrity singers fell into them and were conned into performing there.

He charged $35.42 for everything from a new bumper to a simple wash'n'wax, and he made a killing off of the Hazzard County Sheriff Department. The sheer number of cars that they went through, and the rate that the cars moved through their department and to the scrapyard was extraordinary in of itself. Cooter once noted that following the Dukes around was virtually guaranteed to increase his business. He also fixed the General Lee for the Dukes, and considering how roughly they treated the poor car, it was amazing it was still in one piece.

It was one evening, the night after the race where the General had taken a smashing victory in the annual Hazzard Derby and the Duke boys had foiled Boss Hogg's master plan yet again, that Cooter sat in his favorite broken down recliner in the living quarters over his garage. He had been sick for the last three days, so sick that Luke had to drive his entry in the Derby, and Cooter was looking forward to a rest from the eventful day. The General was sitting in the garage below, suffering from a strange leak of some sort of blue fluid that had showed up shortly after a rather spectacular leap that Bo had made in the car. The leak didn't seem to have adversely affected the car, as evidenced by its performance in the race earlier, but the boys wanted Cooter to check it out anyway. Cooter had taken one look at the car, and then resolved to look at it in the morning when he wasn't so tired and felt better.

Cooter abruptly jerked awake, not even aware that he had fallen asleep in the recliner with the old rabbit-eared TV set on. Wondering what could have possibly woken him up, he heard an almighty _CRASH _followed by what sounded like someone cussing. There was another crash, and he saw the garage door fly outward, followed by the General Lee driving merrily off towards the woods behind the garage. Cursing mentally to himself, Cooter threw on a jacket, grabbed his 22-gauge, and headed out barefoot to go catch the thief. He would be damned if someone stole the General on his watch.

He could track the car easily enough, following the sparkling blue trail of fluid. He could hear more cussing, and an odd series of metallic thunks and clunks coming from the trees. As Cooter rounded a small hill, he snapped, "Alright Roscoe, game's up. You take your filthy hands off that car or I'll..." Cooter trailed off as he stared in a sort of horror at the scene that greeted him. A massive, humanoid shape towered at least three, maybe four stories over him, complete with demonic, glowing amber eyes (were they eyes?) and horns framing the head. Cooter took one look, and started crying to God that he would clean up his act, go to church every Sunday from here till the end of his life, and pray five times a day if he would just not get claimed by the demon before him and be condemned to Hell for the rest of his existence.

The Thing stared at him in what could only be described as complete bewilderment. It stared down at the blathering human. He was busy trying to understand why this small organic, which he knew usually had such a cool head compared to the other annoying squishy creatures, seemed to have utterly lost its processor and was screaming pleas at the organics' deity. The antics of the organics were illogical enough, but this was beyond the scope of the usual illogical acts of the species. This was simply psychotic. Unable to process what was happening, the poor mech was getting a processor ache. He finally roared at the blabbing organic, "SILENCE! Would you shut the frag up and let me think before I smash you?!"

Cooter snapped his mouth shut as the great metal being held its head as though in pain. He sat there staring at it, and he could only marvel at the intricate mechanics that made up the being. As he looked closer, he could see tires, and was that the number one painted on the General? The orange color it seemed to be painted matched the General perfectly. As he looked, he could see other hints of the '69 Charger hidden throughout the body of the giant robot. So the car was the robot? Or was the robot the car?

Feeling rather awkward as he sat there staring at the robot, who was still holding its head, Cooter decided that he would rather be back at home in his recliner than here. He finally ventured to say, "Uh, my name's Cooter Davenport. What's yours?" It felt strange to be addressing a piece of machinery, but it seemed as though this one had some sort of self-awareness.

The orange robot looked up at him, and then said, "My designation is Charger. I am a autonomous robotic life form from the planet Cybertron." He drew himself up slightly. "I am a Decepticon, and I follow Megatron, who is determined to abolish the slavery of the caste system that subjugates innocent bots! We travel the universe and conquer planets for the glory of our race, even as we battle the evil Autobots who wish to keep my people enslaved!"

Cooter sat there and stared stupidly at the robot, no, _alien space robot from Cyber-wherever that was-who was also some sort of revolutionary and conqueror_, and then intelligently said, "So, how long have you been the General?"

Charger cocked its (his? Cooter wasn't sure if giant alien robots had genders...) and seemed to consider the question. "I was in stasis when I crash landed on this planet, and was unable to properly reboot. I also had extensive damage, part of which you repaired when you overhauled my body in its alt form. It has only been recently that I had any amount of energy. I really don't have enough to transform, but this energon leak is not sealing properly and I need to repair it before I offline permanently."

Cooter felt extremely stupid. Energon? Stasis lock? Alt form? He had not the slightest clue what the robot was talking about. "This energon...is it that blue stuff you've been leaking? What happens if you don't stop the leak?"

"Yes," was the immediate reply. "The energon leaking out in this form is analogous to your blood. If I lose too much, I offline, or die, in human terms."

Great. Cooter had a giant evil alien robot that had apparently been living in his garage on and off for the last seven years, and was now having the giant alien robot equivalent of bleeding to death in the woods behind his garage. He had no idea how he would explain to Bo and Luke that their car had turned into said robot and died behind his garage.

Well, the Dukes had paid him to fix their car. And he owed them for having Luke drive his car in the Derby. And if there was one thing Cooter did, it was honor his debts. Even though he felt like utter crap, and thought that he was probably completely crazy as he did so, he looked up at the great space robot and said, "That leak of yours looks like it's in a rather awkward place for you to try and reach. Why don't we head back to the garage and see what I can come up with."

Those amber eyes looked down at him for a minute, calculating, and then a sharp nod. "That sounds acceptable." The robot leaned down, gaze narrowing. "Know this human-if you attempt to double cross me, I have no reservations over stepping on you like the annoying little insect you are."

Cooter glared at the robot, feeling angry. "Look, I feel like shit, and I don't even want to be out here!" he hollered at the robot."I could just leave your jackass self out here to die without even helping you. In fact, the only reason I am helping you is because my friends asked me to fix their car, which happens to be you. I owe them for helping me, and I'll be damned if I don't fix their car!"

The robot seemed to be slightly taken aback. It gave him another calculating look. "I was unaware that such honor existed in races other than my own," it said.

"Yeah, well, I don't give a shit about the superiority of your race of automatic robo-conquerors from the plant Cypercon, or whatever the hell it was. Just get your ass in the garage so I fix the leak. God, I can't wait till tomorrow when Bo comes to take you back to the farm."

"Why is my presence objectionable to you? You should feel HONORED to host a Decepticon warrior with a distinguished war record and reputation such as myself."

"I don't give a rat's ass what you've done or who you are. I don't even know what a Deceptioncon is. NO! Don't even get started on what that is. I don't care. I'll just fix you, and then I want you to get the hell out of my garage!"

It didn't even occur to Cooter that he might not know how to fix what was wrong with the robot, as it meekly followed him back to the garage.

"God, I need a drink."

Author's Notes: First off, there actually is a Decepticon called Charger. The Charger in this story IS NOT him-he only shares the same name because I have no imagination when it comes to naming things, and I only checked TFwiki after I wrote the story, and then was too lazy to come up with a new name. If this is the nae of anyone's OC, I sincerely apologize in advance for the coincidence in names. Second, I do not wish to offend anyone-I intend no racist implications with this story (i.e. the Confederate Flag). Please do not take anything in this story that way. Anyway, hoped I did this X-over some justice, and that you enjoyed the story. Cheers!


End file.
